


Many Nights Ahead

by UndyingEmbers



Category: Pathfinder: Kingmaker (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bath Sex, Bondage, Dom/sub, Domestic Fluff, F/M, First Time, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Praise Kink, Pregnancy, Pregnant barbarians are scary, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2020-02-09 11:08:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18636910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UndyingEmbers/pseuds/UndyingEmbers
Summary: A series of porn vignettes starting with the first time Tristian and my Baroness/Queen have sex. Starts off very vanilla, but will get more kinky as it goes on.Will also have non-porn domestic fluff sprinkled in.More tags will get added when/if I post more content.





	1. First Time

**Author's Note:**

> My OC is a Chaotic Good human barbarian, and she is named. I'm afraid you may have to do mental gymnastics if you want to imagine Tristian with your Baroness.
> 
> Also, I'm pretty much writing when the mood strikes me. I'm not sure when/if I'll post more stuff.

_“I want to be alone with you.”_

_Tristian touches her shoulder ever so slightly. “I missed you too. Let’s go.”_

The door to her chambers barely shuts behind them before she takes him in her arms and crushes him to her body, her lips on his, leaving him completely breathless as he hugs her back and tries his best to match her passion. Oh, how Tristian had wanted this so badly for so long, though he didn’t know it it until his hips touched her palm that day when she caught him reading the treatise that Linzi gave him. After that, so many things prevented him from acting on his feelings: that he was a traitor in service to Nyrissa, his lack of experience in love and mortal relationships, and his fear of the pain of losing her, either through her not returning his feelings or her death.

Katala pulls back. Tristian breathes heavily through his mouth, his heart racing. He can’t see, but he turns his head towards where he thinks her face is, hoping that she can see his eyes. The last time he saw her, they were surrounded by death. She was covered in Vordakai’s blood, still in a battle rage and begging him not to leave. His sight is gone now, but he can tell from the light of his goddess that his queen is smiling.

Slowly, with both hands she takes the sides of his hood and pulls it down. Such a small gesture shouldn’t be so intimate, but it is. So much so that they both just stand there, her hands on his shoulders and his around her waist until she slowly leans in for another kiss. Her hands move up his chest to undo the clasp on his cloak and trow it onto her desk. Her movements become quicker now and her kisses more ardent. She takes his lower lip in her teeth and gently bites and sucks at it. They pull away to pull his satchel over his head and dump it on the chair. From there, she quickly pushes his white robes off his shoulders; they both just let them fall to the floor, revealing his long blue tunic and trousers.  
  
"Gods, how many layers do you have?" she asks, her voice soft and low with lust. Tristian is so caught up in the moment that he can only laugh softly at her little joke. He softly runs his hands over her strong, powerful body. She is wearing thick armor, but not enough to cover her whole body. She is so strong that she can glance off her enemies' blows with just her muscle definition, or so she boasts to their companions by the campfire, and when she is in a rage, she becomes so focused that she never notices when she takes enough damage to kill twenty men, something that, as both her healer and her lover, brings Tristian no small grief. At the same time, he never could resist her passion, like the intense brilliance of a summer sun.  
  
He helps her out of her armor. He cannot see, this instance being the only time he will regret this. He only has the memory of how she looked, and he regrets not being able to appreciate her while his eyes still worked. But he can feel her. At first, he is hesitant, running his hands along her arms and shoulders, but when she guides one of his hands to her breasts, he freezes for a moment before tentatively cupping her in his hand.  
  
While he fondles her, she unlaces his trousers and pulls them down along with his smallclothes. He pulls away long enough to take them off along with his boots and socks.  
  
They are both completely naked. Tristian can't see, but the inner light that he was gifted with makes him very aware of her. He doesn't know what she looks like; he never saw her naked before and never will, but he knows that she is beautiful to him.  
  
She approaches him again, holding him tightly and kissing him hard on the mouth. Tristian freezes, suddenly overcome with nervousness.  
  
"What's wrong?" she asks.  
  
"I'm afraid to disappoint you," Tristian replies.  
  
He feels her hands cupping his face. Her skin is calloused, but very warm, and her touch is gentle. He knows from previous experiences that her strong hands are made for more than holding a weapon, from the way she could calm down a panicking horse or the time she carried Linzi on her back for hours on end because the bard broke her leg and Tristian was out of spells. Katala is someone Tristian would trust with a heavy but delicate burden.  
  
Something like a kingdom.  
  
"It is going to be okay," she whispers. "This is a huge deal for you, but it's okay to not know what to do or feel nervous. It's just something that comes with practice."  
  
"Really?" he asks, very aware of how pathetic he sounds.  
  
"Yes." She puts her forehead to his and starts stroking his face with her thumb. "Trust me, it does get better over time. And we have many nights ahead of us." Her voice takes a seductive dip, and Tristian can practically hear the smile in her voice.  
  
"And days!" he says excitedly. "We have the whole eternity. Our little eternity."  
  
"Well damn, I didn't think you wanted to have sex _that_ often, but okay," she teases, and Tristian feels the heat rising to his face.  
  
"Don't worry too much about it," she says. "Once we get started, it's like instinct, you know. Your body will know what to do, somewhat."  
  
He nods. "Okay." She is the experienced one. Tristian will put himself in her hands.  
  
She kisses him yet again. This time, Tristian just lets himself melt into her as she puts her tongue in his mouth and drinks deep. It is hard for him to let go of his insecurity, but, just like when he got her that ring, he decides to do what Katala does: follow his heart and feelings. Gods, but that woman is all passion and boldness. Whether she is fighting or making a decision for the kingdom or in matters of love, she puts her whole heart in everything she does, only letting her conscience dictate what she should do. Tristian always admired her for that and wishes he had her courage.  
  
She moves her main hand down and gently but firmly wraps her fingers around his manhood. Without meaning to, he shudders and lets out a moan as she moves her hand up and down the shaft. He never expected it to feel so good. He is too lost in the feeling to kiss her properly, but while she is busy with her hands, her tongue and mouth lightly lick and suck at his lips as they hang open in a moan. He clutches tightly at her shoulders, his nails digging into her tough skin.  
  
"My love..." he breathes. He wants her so badly it hurts.  
  
She kisses him once more on the lips. "Come here." She lets go of his genitals. Before Tristian could notice that she was gone, she takes him by the hand and leads him to the bed. She impatiently pushes the covers out of the way before climbing up and coaxing him to join her. He follows her eagerly, getting between her legs.  
  
He leans down and kisses her tenderly. Her hands move all over: his shoulders, his back, even stopping at his bottom and squeezing there.  
  
"I love you, Tristian," she whispers in his ear.  
  
"I love you too, Katala," he replies.  
  
She takes his manhood in her hand once more and guides the tip to her entrance. As Tristian pushes in slowly, he can feel that she is just as warm on the inside as she is out. He is worried that he might be causing her pain, but she moans and tell him how good he's being, and it was enough to make him almost go mad with wanting.  
  
He makes it all the way inside her and pauses, breathing heavily. She reaches out and pushes a strand of his hair out of his eyes. Before he knows it, she pushes her hips forward against his, the motion making both of them moan. She pulls back and does it again and again, and she was right; almost of his body's own volition, Tristian starts mimicking her movements and pushes into her again and again. Her nails dig into him, leaving scratches on his back, but it surprisingly felt so good and he is spurred on to go harder and faster. The pleasure builds within his core and keeps building until he releases his seed inside her with a soft groan, his body shuddering on top of her. She quickly puts her hand between them and works herself to release, her body clamping and shaking around him.  
  
He pulls out and just collapses next to her. As he is catching his breath, she cuddles up to him and starts stroking his chest. He feels so warm and so good, and the thought of spending a whole lifetime like this makes him smile.  
  
"It was...amazing," he says softly.


	2. Oysters

_“Fruit? Tuskwater oysters might be better, if you know what I mean.”  
_

_Tristian’s expression of sincere bafflement, well-known to her, appears on his face. “Oysters? Of course, if you like them…”_

_Mixing with the crowd, they race towards the palace._

 

They have mixed results blending with the crowd. On one hand, the capital is always crowded; every day seems like a holiday with people dancing in the streets, streamers flying everywhere, and merchant stalls crowding the town center. On the other hand, the people know who their queen is, and it really isn't that hard to notice a tall, muscle-bound woman with a distinct scar on her right cheek, carrying enough magical weapons on her back to outfit the entire army, and a large dog at her heels. Everywhere she and Tristian go, someone would call out and wave excitedly to them.

They only just make it inside the castle when Tristian gently pulls at her elbow and guides her into a shadowy side hall just in time for her Regent, Valerie to walk into the entrance hall.

They make it to her chambers (they had to leave the dog behind to distract Maegar).

"Wait a minute. Aren't _you_ one of my advisors?" The thought just occurs to her.

Tristian smiles. "I'm glad you noticed. Well as your Councilor, I insist that you put all projects aside until we are done with this meeting."

As Tristian calls a nearby servant to ask the cook to send up a platter of oysters, Katala takes the time to look at the setup. A bottle of wine and two goblets sit atop a fancy cloth covering her desk. The curtains are closed, leaving only the glow of the candelabras to illuminate the room. The room smells like flowers.

"How long have you been planning this?" she asks as she unbuckles her weapons and tucks them away in a chest.

Tristian smiles softly. "I thought, with everything going on right now...I wanted to do something special for you. I hope you like it."

"This is great, thank you!"

Tristian touches her bare shoulder. She spins around, taking him in her arms and lifts him off the ground as she kisses him fiercely. They got at it until Tristian pulls away, completely breathless.

"I should...prepare the wine," Tristian manages to breathe out. Katala plants a kiss on his cheek before gently setting him down. She lets him go to open the bottle and pour the wine, but she cannot help getting behind him to feel him up and tease him with kisses to his neck and ear.

"Aren't you a little warm in those robes?" she whispers.

"Not particularly," he responds. "Why? Is it too hot for you? I can open a window."

"I'm trying to talk you into taking off your clothes," she says point blank, unable to contain her smile. Ever since they found him at the Temple of the Elk, she felt the urge to keep him safe at all times and was just amazed that someone so pure and vulnerable could exist in the harsh and untamed Stolen Lands. Of course, he showed her time and time again that he was not as weak as he seemed, to the point where she has come to depend on him almost more than anyone for his spells and advice.

Plus, it was funny as hell to watch him stumble over the simplest flirts.

"Oh," Tristian says, his brows furrowing with understanding, and Katala thinks that he will turn red and shy away. Instead, he smiles and says, "You need only ask, my Queen," before taking off his belt and robes.

"Is this better?" he asks.

"How mad would you be if I told you to take off your tunic?" she responds.

"I do what my Queen commands," he says softly.

"Then as your Queen, I command you to take it off."

Without a word, Tristian pulls his tunic over his head and tosses it onto the bed, leaving his chest and arms bare. Tristian is lean, but, like with everything else, Tristian is stronger than he looked. Sure, he won't be wrestling a bear any time soon, but he definitely has some muscle definition under his smooth skin, and Katala delights in running her hands across his chest.

Just then, there is a knock on the door.

"I'll get it," she says.

She opens the door just enough so that whoever is on the other side cannot see Tristian. It is the servant with their oysters. Katala grabs the tray with a cheerful thanks and closes the door.

"Food's here!" she announces and slams the tray down on the desk.

So they sit down to enjoy the wine and oysters. Katala takes her time to enjoy the sight of Tristian shirtless, sucking in oysters, completely oblivious to what it meant.

"So why exactly are you so fascinated with oysters?" Tristian asks as he takes another one.

"Because they look like a vagina." Her response causes the deva to choke on the oyster he was eating. She makes sure that he is okay before continuing. "And the way you eat an oyster is kind of like sucking off a woman."

"Oh," says Tristian once he is done coughing, his face turning red. To drive the point home, she takes an oyster and sucks it down with a loud slurp, causing his blush to darken.

It gets to a point where neither of them is interested in the oysters, though they do drink plenty of wine, and it is warm enough that they are both flush.

"I hope you have room for dessert," she says in a low voice.

"Dessert?" he seems confused. "Sure, if you want, but I was hoping that we could be more...intimate tonight."

She tries so hard not to laugh. He is so adorable, but she also doesn't want to make him too self-conscious.

"Dessert is a..." What was that word that Linzi used for something that meant something else? Euphe...euphoria...? The word "metaphor" didn't quite work here. At least Katala didn't think so. "It means a blowjob after dinner."

Tristian coughs with surprise and embarrassment. This time, she cannot stop herself from letting out a laugh. He looks down at his hands, the blush on his cheeks spreading down to his shoulders. "Ah," he says after he calms down a bit. "Forgive me. I'm still very new to...the whole..."

"You have nothing to apologize for," she says. "I know I can be a bit much sometimes."

"I know," says Tristian. "But I also kind of like it." It is hard to see Tristian's face, facing downwards and curtained with his thin golden hair, but Katala can see one of the corners of his lips face up in a smile. "Is that bad?"

"Not at all," she says, standing up. "Come here, you perfect, beautiful thing."

He stands up, and she pulls him towards her. They kiss again, tasting wine on each other's lips. He starts taking off her clothes, pulling off her shirt and her hides. When she is completely naked, she pushes him towards the bed. He stumbles and just manages to catch himself in a sitting position on top of the covers. She gets on her knees in front of him and kisses and rubs her face against the growing bulge in his trousers.

"Ah, Katala," he moans, clutching the covers.

She takes off his boots and pulls down his trousers and small clothes. His erect cock is right in front of her face. She looks up at his face. His blind eyes can't see what she is doing, but he looks curious, wanting to know what she is going to do next.

She doesn't keep him waiting for too long. After planting a kiss on the tip, she holds his shaft in place with her right hand and licks the underside. Her tongue travels up from the balls to his tip, causing more moans to come out of Tristian's throat. She wraps her hand around the base of the shaft and starts licking the tip, tasting the salty beads of precum leaking out of his cock.

Tristian falls back into a lying position on the bed as she takes him fully in her mouth. Her mouth moves up and down his shaft as she sucks on his cock. She wishes she could see his face, but she contents herself with listening to him unravel as his moans fill her chambers.

"K...Katala, I'm going to..." he warns.

She keeps going, her head bobbing up and down as she continues to suck him off.

"I'm almost...ah!" His cock contracts in her mouth and his seed spills onto her tongue. She spits it out in her hand and wipes it off with one of the napkins on her desk.

She looks down at him, absolutely pleased with herself. He is lying down on the bed, breathing heavily, his pale blind eyes unfocused. She lies down next to him as she waits for him to calm down.

He turns his head towards her. "I suppose I should do the same to you."

"If you want," she responds.

"I'm not sure how," he says. "Will you guide me?"

"Yes."

She scrambles up on the bed, her head in the pillows. He gets on his hands and knees between her legs. She takes him by the hand and guides it just to her entrance.

"Just start by licking around the outside," she whispers. Slowly, tentatively, Tristian lowers his head and touches his tongue to her pussy. It takes a moment for him to be brave enough to try licking her, but he manages to form a pattern and runs his tongue along her vulva and clit.

"That's it," she moans, and he keeps going with his tongue, eager to explore.

"Y...you know what really feels good? Use the tip of your tongue on my clit. Just...ah!..."

Tristian does what she says and presses the tip of his tongue on her engorged clit, licking faster and faster as she moans incomprehensibly on the cushions.

"You c...can also..." she manages to get out, "use your fingers."

He obediently puts his fingers to her entrance and pushes them in. As he pleasures her with his fingers and tongue, she is gone, unable to do more than writhe and moan on the bed, but that's fine; Tristian seems to have gained a newfound confidence. He completely takes over, responding to what makes her scream loudest and having a knack for judging her reactions. It isn't long before her body clenches up, and her orgasm over takes her, and she is gushing all over his face and hand.

After she comes, Tristian pulls his fingers out, but his head stays between her legs to lick her clean as she lies there, lost in feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, my character is super blunt, and she's not that smart (only an 8 in INT, go figure).


	3. Experiences

_“Where did you learn that? No, don’t answer. I would go mad from jealousy!”_

 

Katala cannot lie; she really loves Tristian’s butt.

It is the best butt that she ever saw, tight, but with enough give that she can comfortably squeeze it. Even though he always covers up in long robes, his garments somehow manage to highlight rather than take away from his amazing figure. When he bends over, his robes curtain his gorgeous butt perfectly, and on a bright sunny day, the white cloth illuminates the outline of his ass like a beacon that she cannot resist.

And she’s not the only one to notice, either. There were times where she caught Regongar or Octavia staring, and she can hardly visit him in his clinic without a group of young lasses (and at least one lad) mooning over him. To that, Katala can only smile. She knew that Tristian gave himself to her and her alone, and she to him.

His butt is absolutely delightful to hold on to when they were showering each other with kisses or when she’s holding him in place while she sucks on his cock. She recalls that one night. She was on top of him, sucking him off while he sucked and licked at her pussy. She remembers holding his ass in her hands, her finger right on his rim, and she wanted so bad to push in and feel him from the inside.

In other words, she really loves that booty. Which is why she finds herself in her chambers with him, trying to convince him to let her try fingering him while they have sex.  
  
"You want to do what?" he asks. His brow is furrowed, but he looks more confused than shocked or scandalized.  
  
"Well I mean..." she stutters. "Sometimes people like to experiment, and some people have found that it feels good to have something in their butt."  
  
"I'm...aware," he says. "I just don't see how."  
  
"Well, it's not that complicated. You just put a finger or whatever else you might have..."  
  
"I know that," says Tristian. "I just don't see how that can be any way pleasurable." He pauses. "Or why you seem to be so eager to do it all of a sudden."  
  
"Well, your butt has nerves, just like everywhere else, and in some places, like the rim, it feels good to get stroked there," she explains. "I know for men in particular, they can sometimes get stimulated from it.  
  
"It's also a mental thing. It's kind of like the next level of intimacy. You're touching your partner somewhere where they would never let anyone, you know."  
  
"And you wish to stimulate me?" The corners of his mouth turn upwards a bit. "Is that why you've been very...interested in me lately?"  
  
This time it is her turn to blush. "Oh...you noticed."  
  
Tristian laughs. "I don't mind. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."  
  
"You..."  
  
"I must confess, it is a little refreshing to be the one to catch _you_ off guard for a change." Tristian looks much too happy with himself.  
  
"Anyway, getting back on topic," she says before the awkwardness can drag on for too long. "Are you willing to give it a go?"  
  
"Will it hurt?" he asks  
  
"Not if we take it slow," she says. "We can start with one finger and see where we go from there."  
  
"Okay, sure. What do we need to do?"  
  
"You go get undressed while I get the lube." She gives him a peck on the lips and a smack on the butt before going to her nightstand to get the tiny bottle of oil that she bought in preparation for this. Of course, she doesn't deny herself of watching her lover strip down in front of her. Tristian doesn't put a lot of thought in putting on a show for her, but he is very quick to take off his garments, seemingly eager to get naked. He takes off his trousers and smallclothes, giving Katala a nice view of that sweet, sweet ass.  
  
When he is done, she puts her arm around his waist. "Good, now get on the bed. On your hands and knees."  
  
He detaches himself from her and obediently crawls up onto their bed. His lovely ass is right in arm's reach, and his cock dangles between his legs, the tip flushed a faint red. Katala wastes no time stroking his ass and thighs. Tristian hums contentedly and pushes his hips back into her hand. She gives his ass one last squeeze before pulling away to coat one of her fingers in the lubricant.  
  
"Ready?" she asks, stroking his rim.  
  
"Yes," he whispers, his lips trembling a little.  
  
"Tell me if it hurts." She pushes the tip of her finger into him. Her finger is thick and rough, but, with the oil, she manages to slide in fairly easily. At first, Trisitian doesn't really respond, but, when she's almost knuckle-deep in him, he lets out a little gasp and moans softly.  
  
"How does it feel?" she asks.  
  
"Nice," he responds. "Surprisingly comfortable."  
  
"Do you think you can handle two fingers?"  
  
He stops to think for a moment. "I think so."  
  
Katala pulls her finger out to put on some more oil and coat her second finger. This time, there is some resistance as she pushes in, and she has to push in more carefully to prevent it from hurting him.  
  
"Gods, you're so tight," she breathes out. In response, Tristian just moans. She pushes her fingers halfway in and stops to give him some time to adjust. When she feels that he's good and ready, she starts moving her fingers in and out, massaging him from the inside. He moans under her touch. His cock turns dark red at the tip and rises slightly upwards towards his belly.  
  
"Can you cum like this?" she asks, her voice getting breathy, and she can feel her smallclothes getting wet.  
  
"I...I don't know," Tristian breathes out.  
  
"Would you like it if I did this to you while you fucked me?" she asks. "With me inside you while you're inside me."  
  
He turns his face to her. His cheeks are red, and his pale eyes flare with excitement. "Please."  
  
Katala takes out her fingers and immediately takes off her clothes. When she gets on the bed Tristian almost immediately climbs on top of her, his lips on hers, kissing her ardently. While he distracts her with kisses, he guides his cock to her entrance and pushes in. She is already so wet and so ready that he has no trouble pushing in and out, pounding her into the sheets. She grabs a hold of his butt with both hands and, with the finger still coated in oil, pushes into him. He lets out another moan, his eyelids fluttering closed. Katala fingers him in time with him fucking her, both going faster and faster until he comes with a gasping moan. When he pulls out, he replaces his cock with his hand and brings her to a climax.  
  
"I didn't know you could do that," says Tristian as they lie on the bed.  
  
"You can do all sorts of things," Katala says. "One day I would like to do that to you while I'm sucking your cock."  
  
Tristian stares up at the ceiling, his brow furrowing in contemplation, but his eyes shining in excitement. "I wonder what else you can do with that!"  
  
"Well, I'm always happy to help you explore."


	4. Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one take a lot of buildup. I guess Tristian is just a slow burn on everything.

_I heard that there were wizards who could stop time. I dream about that when I’m with you._

Of the two of them, it is usually Katala who pushes to try new things. Even so, she is only a little surprised when Tristian walks up to her after a meeting one day and asks to talk to her alone in their chambers.

“I was hoping that you could help me wrap my mind around some issues – no, questions – regarding certain things involving…intimacy,” he says.

“Well, I’m always happy to help with _that_ ,” she says in a low voice.

“Octavia lent me a book on…pleasure,” he explains.

 _Oh, no_ , she thinks, completely amused.

“Now, I know what you’re thinking,” says Tristian, “but, ever since we tried…with your fingers in my…” He turns beet-red. “I’ve been desperate to see what else we could do.”

“What kind of book did she give you?”

“Well, it’s a little different from the one Linzi gave me. This one is more like a book of instructions on how to give pleasure to your partner. But I’m having trouble understanding some of the suggestions. It seems that half of them involve berating or hurting your partner and…” Tristian shakes his head. “That can’t be what mortals enjoy, can it? If so, then I’m not sure I could do that to you…or would want it done to me.”

“Tristian.” She cannot stop smiling at how cute he is. “We don’t have to _everything_ that’s in whatever book you got from Linzi or Octavia. ‘Sides, I’m pretty sure that whatever Octavia gave you is for people with…um…specialized tastes.”

“I know,” says Tristian, “but I thought that if I could get a better idea of what mortals like and don’t like, I could get better at bringing you pleasure, and…” he lowers his voice to almost a whisper “…and get more enjoyment with…”

“Fucking,” she finishes.

“Well, yes…” he says, looking down at the floor.

She chuckles. “Maybe you would be less awkward about sex if you just say it.”

“Katala…”

“I’m serious! You know what, just do it, right now. Just say the word ‘fuck’!” It is only now that the barbarian notices that she’s actually rather loud, but she also doesn’t particularly care. It’s hardly the most scandalous thing the servants have overheard their queen say.

“Now you’re just being silly.”

“Tristian,” says Katala, “I took in kobold tribe as my vassals, was made an honorary goblin, incited a revolt among the Tiger Lords, and made Stefano Moskoni governor of Pitax. You should know by now that I’m a silly person.”

Tristian sighs and shakes his head, but Katala can clearly see the corners of his mouth curve upwards.

“So, anything in that book you want to try?” she asks.

“Well, there is one thing I see come up, not just in Octavia’s book, but sometimes when I look elsewhere, sometimes it’s like one partner treats the other like a servant, and I don’t know why.”

“Ooh, you mean dom/sub? Fun stuff.”

He looks at her quizzically. “You’ve participated in this before.”

“Oh, yeah, once I was with this guy who liked getting spanked.” She looks for a reaction on Tristian’s face, but the deva’s expression doesn’t even shift.

“But…why?”

“Something about losing control, letting your partner do the work for you. I don’t know, I’ve never subbed for anyone before.”

“Would you like to?” he asks.

For a moment, Katala is surprised, but only for a moment. Between him "saving" her from that asshole at the Rushlight Tournament, his willingness to face down the various monsters and bandits that they fight on a regular basis, and him showing no fear when he implores her to show mercy to her enemies even though she is in the middle of a rage and ready to kill, she's almost used to his hidden boldness.

“Sure, why not,” she responds.

Tristian steps closer to her, so close that she can feel his breath on her face. He gently brings his fingers to her face, tracing the scar running down her cheek.

“Then I’ll find some time to dominate for you,” he whispered. “But not tonight. I need to prepare.”

 _Prepare? What the hell did he learn from those books?_ she thought. “All right,” she said. “But we better have some good sex now.”

His lips find hers. They keep kissing as Katala lifts him up and carries him to the bed, where they proceed to almost tear off each other’s clothes. Tristian kisses down to her breasts and stops to kiss and lick at one of her nipples.

“I’ll make it good, I promise,” he whispers. “I want you to feel really good.” He takes one of her nipples in his mouth and sucks on it.

 ***

On the day they agree to do it, Tristian wakes her up with a whispered command to get ready. They took an entire day off from duties to play their little game. The rules they established are that the game cannot affect the kingdom in any way, it cannot involve other people, Tristian cannot command her to do anything humiliating, and Katala will not be made to harm herself, Tristian, or anyone else. Other than that, she will do everything he tells her from when they wake up to when they go to sleep that evening.

Tristian places a package at the foot of the bed. “Wear this today,” he says before leaving their chambers.

Katala opens the package and puts on the dress. Contrary to what most people think, she actually doesn’t mind wearing dresses. It was just _frilly_ dresses she didn’t like, with all the silly bows and ribbons layers and such, but, in her mind, the same could be said about the ridiculous cuffs, jackets, pantaloons, and other such nonsense that is so popular with the men in Pitax. On the rare occasions where she does have to wear a dress, Katala makes sure that her clothes showed strength and power, which means bold colors (preferably red), impressive jewelry, and furs wrapped around her shoulders if that was feasible. The clothes that Tristian picked out for her are of Ulfen style: a long, brown skirt with gold embroidery at the hem, a green tunic, and a necklace of colored beads. It is humble, but durable. The sleeves are tight enough to show her muscles, but not so tight that they restrict movement. The neckline is a little lower than what is normal, showing a lot of her shoulder and collarbone. Tristian is blind, but Katala knows that he likes touching her neck and shoulder a lot.

When she walks outside, Tristian is there waiting for her. His soft fingers trace her shoulder and collarbone, just stopping at her sternum.

“Good girl,” he says, his hand only just moving down her breast before he takes it away. “Come,” he says, taking her arm in his, “the cook should be just about done with breakfast.”

She lets him lead her to a little dining chamber reserved for when the ruler takes her meals with their family or with a delegate important enough to eat with the queen. Katala hardly ever uses that room. When she’s hungry and doesn’t have to meet with someone, she goes straight to the kitchen. The room is already finely decorated by default, though by Katala’s standards “finely decorated” means that she actually let someone who knew what they were doing take change of the layout of the room instead of just throwing in whatever she needed at the time and maybe a painting or two and calling it good. The window is open, letting in a good deal of sunlight, fresh flowers are put in a vase in the center of the table, and a large platter with eggs, sausages, fruit, and buttered bread sits near one of the chairs.

Tristian pulls out a chair for her to sit down before taking a seat at the head of the small table. It is then that Katala realizes that there are only enough utensils for one of them. Tristian takes the fork and knife and cuts a bit of one of the sausages and pushes the bit of food against her lips.

“Open up,” he commands, and she obediently opens her mouth, allowing him to push in the little bit of sausage, which she gladly takes in. The chef had it cooked just the way she likes it: with a strong herb flavor and a generous amount of spice. Tristian waits for her to swallow before cutting up another piece and feeding it to her again. The symbolism is not lost on Katala, and it’s all she can do not to blurt out a crude joke about him feeding her _his_ sausage, but damn if he would only open his trousers and command her to suck him off…

The sound of Tristian clicking his tongue brings her out of her daydream. “Pay attention,” he chides.

He continues to feed her the rest of the sausages and most of the eggs before eating the little he saved for himself. Once he is done, he wipes her mouth with his napkin. His fingers just brush her lips, but they are quickly gone before she could kiss them. After that, he stands up and holds out an arm, as if expecting her to fall in place beside him. She does so. Before they leave, Tristian whispers in her ear, “You are not to speak to anyone without my permission, and you are not to leave my side unless I tell you to. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Tristian.”

He kisses her cheek. “Good girl.”

The next item on Tristian’s list is a trip to the market. Tristian permits her to carry a sword and bring her dog, named Hunter, in case they get attacked. Katala lets him drag her around by the arm as he looks at the wares being sold. Of course, the people recognize the queen and call out excitedly. Katala smiles and waves, but otherwise lets Tristian handle whoever approaches them, which he does with ease. After every encounter, Tristian would stroke her hand or kiss her cheek and tell her how good she is.

Obeying Tristian like this felt very surreal. Katala is not used to just putting herself within another person’s power, and many times during the outing, she feels tempted to blurt out a crude joke or tell someone off and has to struggle to control herself. At the same time, with Tristian, it also feels kind of right. She already trusts him so much. Also, he has such an amazing voice. Every time he whispers in her ear, she almost melts on the spot. It feels so good when he tells her that she’s a good girl, and she feels that she would do anything for that voice.

She really, really hopes that at some point that voice would tell her to strip down and get on her knees.

Tristian really only spends time at the market buying gifts for her. Throughout the whole morning, he showers her with flowers, dog statuettes, and at one point, a shield made of tanned owlbear hide catches her eye. It has adamantine spikes protruding from it, ready to tear into anyone who attacked its wielder. Though she knows that Tristian wishes that there didn’t have to be anymore violence, he gets it for her, if only to make sure she is sufficiently protected when she’s out there taking the damage so that the other party members don’t have to.

After lunch (which goes the same way breakfast did, only this time, Tristian decided on finger food; Katala never realized how arousing it was to eat directly out of his hand), they take another trip down to the shore of Tuskwater lake.

 _Hard to imagine that a few years ago, the whole beach was one, big, wet, mosquito-infested mud bath_ , she thought. Now, there is an actual waterway that is always full of boats coming and going, bringing goods and travelers to the capital from other parts of her kingdom. A little bit away from the docks, fishermen could bring their nets and poles to catch fish, and families bring their children to swim in the lake.

It is a lovely walk along the shore. Once in a while, Katala finds a stick (and by “stick”, Katala means a small log) and throws it in front of their path for Hunter to go fetch. The dog is huge, almost as large as a horse and easily more powerful than the strongest mule, and has no more trouble carrying these logs than his mistress does. She never leaves Tristian’s side on their walk.

They stop at a sandy patch of a beach and take a break from the game. Katala goes swimming with Hunter while Tristian reads a book (one of their allies gifted the kingdom an amulet that can read texts and whisper them to the wearer). Once in a while Hunter goes back to shore, and the deva has to fend off the very wet and very large dog who is very determined to shower him with affection.

They sit on a blanket and watch the setting sun together while Katala dries off. Katala has her head on his lap. Tristian strokes her long, dark hair, occasionally entwining his slender fingers with one of her braids.

“How am I doing?” Tristian asks. “I hope you are at least enjoying yourself, my Queen?”

“Hm. Oh yeah, you’re doing great,” she says, stroking his thigh. “Can’t wait until tonight, though.”

***

As soon as they make it back to their chambers, Tristian commands her to stand still near the bed. He closes all the curtains and shuts and locks the doors. It is pitch-black, and Katala cannot see, but the dark does not bother Tristian. She hears his footsteps as he approaches her. Her heart pounds excitedly in her chest.

His fingers ghost over one of her nipples, causing the bud to harden through the cloth. Katala feels Tristian undo the lacing on her tunic. He slips his hands into the opening and starts fondling her breasts.

“You’ve been so good,” he whispers. She moans as he lightly pinches her nipples. “You are normally so wild, but you’ve made me very happy today.”

“It’s because it feels good to submit to you,” she says, and it’s true; she always does what feels good, as long as it isn’t hurting anyone, and fuck if the thought of belonging to him for one night didn’t make her hotter than anything else in the world. “Obeying you makes me feel…ah!...so wonderful I’d do anything for you. Tristian, do what you want with me, I’ll do anything you ask, please…”

Tristian lets out a loud sigh and squeezes her breasts more tightly. Even in her lustful haze, Katala feels a little satisfied with herself for making the measured and controlled deva lose a little bit of composure.

“Undress, now,” he commands. His voice is low and breathy. When he pulls his hands away, Katala gets to work removing her tunic, skirt, and smallclothes, throwing them every which way, not caring where they landed.

“Very good,” he says. “Now get on the bed. On your hands and knees.”

She obediently carries out the order, feeling her way to the bed and getting on her hands and knees facing the headboard. She hears the ruffling of fabric as Tristian takes off his clothes. Her races with excitement, and she can feel herself getting wetter by the second. She hears his footsteps get closer. He stops just at the side of the bed. His fingers poke at her thighs and her pussy, feeling her wetness.

Suddenly, and it takes her completely by surprise, she feels his tongue travel up her pussy. She gasps and moans and tries to push her hips back, but he quickly holds her still.

“Spread out your legs,” he whispers, and she does so, spreading her knees further apart on the bed. He travels up her body, his finger going up her leg, her spine, and her shoulder before resting on the back of her neck. He strokes her head a few times before pushing down at the base of her neck. He cannot actually force her to do anything; she is much stronger than he is, but like a draft horse to the rein, she chooses to obey her master, and his gentle touch is the most sensual of yokes. He moves her and prods her until she’s in a prostrating position, her head in the pillows, and her ass in the air. Her legs are spread so wide that anyone walking in would get a nice view of the queen’s pussy and asshole if it wasn’t so dark.

Tristian climbs onto the bed behind her, the tip of his cock just pressing against her entrance. “You’ve been so good,” he whispers. “It would be my honor to claim you and make you mine.”

“Yes, Tristian,” she responds. “I’m yours. Take me.”

A moan escapes from Tristian’s lips, and he practically shoves into her. It’s not painful. She is so horny right now and so deep in her submissive headspace that he can do anything to her, and he does, his movements hard and fast. As she urges him to claim her, to take her, to make her his, she can tell that her words are having an effect on him. His moans are so loud that it’s a wonder that he doesn’t wake the entire castle. His nails dig into her hips. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen him so worked up.

This time, she is the first to come, but she still participates, lets him do what he sees fit with her until he comes deep inside her. When he does, she pushes her hips back against his, accepting his seed.

As soon as he’s done, he practically falls off her and onto his side next to her.

“Good…good girl,” he just manages to breathe out between his panting. He is breathing so heavily, and Katala can tell that he has completely melted into a little puddle. She gathers him up in her strong arms and holds him through the afterglow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always had Tristian pegged as a top. Mostly because Regongar is already a bottom, but I think Tristian also sees this as a sort of service he is doing for his lady. He sees that she enjoys this and wants to make her happy.
> 
> Any comments are welcome, even critical ones.


	5. Service

_Our moments together pass too quickly._

 

The plans for the new hospitals and orphanages to be built in Pitax (her way of thumbing her nose at the former King Irovetti, who only cared for his own pleasures and needs, while giving aid to her new subjects) are spread out on _her_ desk in _her_ chambers. Tristian is sitting in _her_ chair drinking _her_ wine. _She_ is kneeling at his feet, naked, her head on his lap. He runs his fingers through her hair as the amulet he is holding over the documents whispers their contents in his ear.

This is very surreal to him. As a deva, his purpose is to _serve_. Whether he is following the commands of his Goddess or giving aid to the mortals that need him, his life is not his own; it belongs to Sarenrae and to everyone. This caused Tristian quite a bit of angst when he first joined Katala’s group. He recalls the first days of their adventure. In his first battle with the group, he tried charging in with his scimitar, that clumsy bit of metal, forgetting that he was not an immense being made of pure light and that his weapon was not a flaming instrument of mercy, and was almost gravely wounded. He remembers Katala charging in, blocking attacks meant for him, and cutting down his attackers. He remembers feeling shame and a little humiliation; he should be the one protecting _her_. His feelings only got worse when she bought him a crossbow at the trading post.

Here, though…Well, it is separate from their day-to-day lives. Out in the world, he finds his role under Katala similar to what his role was under The Everlight. Katala is so awe-inspiring, and so larger than life, powerful, but also a force of good. Tristian considers it one of his greatest honors to serve his Queen and help her protect and nourish her people, taking no power for himself, merely following her around like a shadow, doing her bidding. When she tells him to go heal that person or bless the party, he is happy to do what she says, confident that she will only make him do good things, unlike Nyrissa, who forced him to do unspeakable harm to the people he was supposed to protect. He is happy with the life he found in Golarian and would have it no other way.

So why does it feel so good to have her at his feet?

He can feel her weight shift on his leg. She hunches over him, bored. He moves his down her neck to her upper back and strokes her there, his nails lightly digging into her skin.

“I’m almost done, my love,” he says, and he feels her relax under his touch. This is how it is with them. Tristian learned very early on that he cannot ever bring himself to hurt or insult her, even in this context, so when they play this game, there are no punishments and no reprimands. He tells her what he wants, and she _chooses_ to obey him.

And the fact that it is her choice is probably why he enjoys this like he does. Part of it is because he can reconcile his need to serve with his desire to dominate her in bed; it is something that he is doing _for_ her. She wants and enjoys it, and it brings him joy to make her happy. But he also cannot deny how intoxicating it is that she is so eager to do what he wants, that she will enthusiastically debase herself on his say-so.

Finally, he takes his hand off of her to put his stamp of approval on the plans. He breathes a sigh of relief and takes a sip of his wine. Katala has remarkably good taste in alcohol, not surprising considering she worships Cayden Cailean (ironic, considering what they are doing now). The only thing from her cabinet that Tristian is not allowed to touch is the bottle of mead she is saving for Merrymead.

“Come here.” Tristian motions to the space between his legs. He hears and feels her shift on the floor until she is in front of him, facing him.

He unlaces his trousers and pushes them down, right in front of her face.

“I think you would very much like to take me in your mouth, correct?” he says. “If I told you to do it, you would want it more than anything.”

“Yes, Tristian.” Oh, how it affects him to hear her say his name like that. She never calls him “Sir” or “Master” in their games, but the way she emphasizes his name, like it carries a great weight, just makes him feel so aroused. “I want to be a good girl and suck your cock. I love it so much, I belong on my knees.”

He lets out a loud sigh. His inner light allows him to still pick up little cues from other people, and he can sense just a bit of smug satisfaction from her. She knows what she’s doing.

He pets her on the head. Holding her head in place, he pushes his hips forward and rubs his erection against her face. The shaft presses against her cheek, the tip against her brow, and his scrotum against her mouth. She groans and nuzzles his manhood.

He sits back down and let’s go of her head. “Fellate me.”

She leans forward and takes him in her mouth. He sighs as he feels her envelop him, her head moving up and down, her tongue encircling him. At one point, she takes him all the way in, and he can feel his tip brush against the back of her throat.

“Good girl.” He strokes her long, dark hair. She sighs through her nose and picks up the pace, sucking on him harder and faster, and he can feel himself getting closer and closer.

Before he gets to release, he pulls out of her mouth. He pushes his tip between her breasts and starts stimulating himself with his hand, the shaft wet from her mouth. It doesn’t take long for the pleasure to wash over him, and he ejaculates between her breasts.

He sits down slumped on the chair, panting heavily.

“Thank you,” he breathes out.

“Well you’ve worked so hard, you deserve a blowjob from the queen,” she said. That was the main quirk of their game. She only obeyed him when she felt like it, but that only meant that all the other times she did obey, it was because she _wanted_ to.

He laughs and strokes her face. “As long as I’m the only one getting this treatment.”

“Yes, Tristian. I belong to you and you alone…” Her voice trails off.

“What is it?” he asks.

“I just had an idea,” she says. She has a slight tinge of excitement in her voice. “What if you stamped my ass with the Councilor’s seal while fucking me over the desk? Then I’d really be yours!”

He lets out another laugh. A moment passes before he realizes that she was actually somewhat serious.

“That’s just silly,” he says.

“You’re the dominant. It’s your choice.” Tristian couldn’t help but notice her voice getting a little flat.

“I’ll tell you what,” he says. “I’ll take you on the desk. As for the stamp…we’ll see.”

She smiles widely. He can tell by his inner light. “Yes, Tristian.”

He takes a napkin from one of the desk drawers and cleans the mess from her breasts, taking his time to feel her up. “Bend over the desk,” he commands.

She does so eagerly, but not before Tristian moves all his papers and ink out of the way. Tristian pulls out a black satin sash from the closet and walks up to her.

“Put your hands behind your back, as if you’ve been tied up,” he whispers as he ties the sash around her eyes. She lowers herself onto the desk, her breasts pressing against the hard wood, and puts her arms behind her, her wrists crossed together above her hips.

He kisses her forehead. “Good girl.”

He walks behind her and gets between her spread legs, but he doesn’t take her just yet. He traces around her entrance with his finger. She is so wet that it got on her bottom and legs in a nice little circle. He bends over and starts licking her clean. She moans, but he is careful not to let his tongue touch her entrance; he already had plans for _that_.

He touches himself lightly. He’s a little tender, but he still manages to get hard again. He presses the tip against her entrance.

“Who do you belong to?” he asks, holding on to her hips.

“You, Tristian,” she moans. “I belong to you.”

“Tell me. Why are you bent over the desk?”

“Because you told me to, and I’m your obedient little pet.”

He chuckles softly. “And do you like being my obedient little pet?”

“I love it! I love it when you use my body and make me pleasure you!”

He leans over and kisses her muscled back, traces his finger over her various scars. “Since you love it so much…I exist to make you happy.”

With that, he sinks all the way into her, stopping when his hips touch hers. He can tell she is very excited now. She is panting very heavily, and she is very wet around his manhood.

He starts moving in and out. Her bottom feels so good in his hands, and she feels so good around his manhood. He pushes into her hard, knowing that she likes it a little rough. A few times, he catches her hands almost slipping, but she always corrects herself, keeping herself prisoner like he asked her too.

 _What a good girl_.

Her request comes unbidden to his mind. Once planted in his head, it would not go away. He is blind now, but he still remembers what the Councilor’s seal looks like; he designed it himself, a dove against a rising sun. To have that mark on her…where she asked him to…it just seems so juvenile and silly, but it is right there in arms reach, and he is so far gone, his mind filled with lust.

He grabs the wooden stamp and dips it in the ink. He still cannot believe what he is doing, even when he brings it down on Katala’s backside. She gaps and tries to look back, but cannot because of the blindfold. He can feel her tighten around his shaft, and her moans become louder than ever, and it doesn’t take long for her to clench around him. He slows down the pace, letting her ride out her orgasm for as long as possible.

Once she slumps over the desk, Tristian pulls out almost all the way, leaving the tip inside and finishes himself off with his hand, his spent cock spilling out weakly inside her.

He hears the rustling of fabric as Katala takes off her blindfold. He can only hear her move around on the desk, but he’s pretty sure that she’s looking back on the mark he made.

“Nice,” she says. “You actually did it.”

He sighs. His inner light registers the mark as a feeling of shame and disbelief, but also satisfaction. In any case, his mind is too jumbled to really argue with her right now. Instead, he lies next to her on the desk and puts his hand over her bottom where the mark is.

“ _My_ Queen,” he says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, another dom/sub. But I had to write at least one other chapter from Tristian's POV.
> 
> Also, I'm going to mark this as complete for now, as I've kind of run out of ideas. Maybe I'll post more, but I don't know. I hope you enjoyed!


	6. Temperament

_I didn't know you could be so wild!_

Katala was angry. Actually the more accurate phrase would be that she was really fucking pissed off. She had been in a weeks-long negotiation with representatives from the Sevenarches. She and the druids from Tuxony were trying to procure an artifact that would help stabilize wild portals to the First World. The kingdom had had increasing reports of beings from the First World getting stuck in the realm of mortals and vice versa. Katala had hoped that the Oakstewards would have something that would help.

Of course, they were still pissed off that Katala had allowed the fugitive from Kyonin to flee home and were refusing to help. Fucking druids.

It also really didn't help when she completely lost it in the last meeting and yelled at the representatives and called them uncaring fools.

She walked out of that meeting especially frustrated. The druid from her own kingdom took her aside.

"It's going to Hell, isn't it?" asked Katala.

"Well, I wouldn't say that, Your Majesty," he said cautiously. "But it may behoove you to be more temperate in your dealings with others, especially with the Oakstewards." He coughed. "What exactly have you done that angered them?"

Katala sighed. "I allowed a fugitive passage through Tuxony back to his home country, and things...haven't really gone well diplomatically between us and the Sevenarches since. Hey, don't look at me like that. I wasn't going to let them imprison him just for passing through!"

"Just a bit of advice from an old man. A ruler must be wise and full of foresight. Every decision must be weighed carefully. You must not let your temper get the best of you."

"I'm just trying to do what is right," said Katala. "And these assholes are drawing this out on purpose while my people are suffering. Just because I made that decision years ago."

Katala sighed again and excused herself. She needed to go let off some steam. On her way to the training grounds, she received a message. Evindra found two human children dead in the First World.

Katala destroyed every combat target in the field. Two children dead because Katala and Linzi had done what they had thought was right.

When the rage subsided, Katala just fell to the ground. Linzi, her dearest friend who had served her faithfully as her Grand High Ambassador, had died at Nyrissa's hands. They had been so hopeful for the kingdom. They had all this power, and they could finally stand up to other powers who tried to oppress others. They knew that it wouldn't be that simple, but it was a chance that they were willing to take to do the right thing.

Poor Linzi. Katala could not have done all of this without her. Not only had she been a solid companion and a good friend, but she had also helped build Tuxony's diplomatic power beyond what anyone had ever expected of them. Like Katala, Linzi had been passionate and preferred bold action, but the bard could make it more palatable with charm and wit. She could have found a way to break through to the Oakstewards.

Tears actually started falling down her face as she sat in the middle of the wrecked training grounds. The rage was gone, but her heart still pounded furiously. She was still restless and frustrated. She needed another outlet. She needed...

Katala would recognize Tristian's footsteps anywhere. Her husband gracefully made his way over the straw-covered ground towards her.

Katala smiled. "Hey, Featherbutt," she said.

Tristian sat down next to her. "I heard what happened today. Are you all right?"

Katala wiped her face. "Yeah," she said. "Actually, no. I just can't take these people anymore."

Tristian took her hand in his. "You are right to be frustrated. I see the pain and devastation these portals cause every day. Any ruler should want to put an end to this now."

"But I feel the harder I push, the worse it gets. I'm just..." Katala pounded the ground with a fist. This was fine. She knew she would get through this eventually. She reminded herself that she had faced worse. But right now, the anger, the helplessness was percolating inside her. All she could see was suffering and death, and these fucking idiots who were just sitting there and letting it happen. She wanted to break something, to go find who was responsible and grind them into the dust.

Tristian must have sensed her state of mind. His fingers squeezed around hers. "Katala, you are in no state to deal with this right now. Take some time off before trying to tackle this again."

"I can't. So much is riding on this," said Katala.

"Katala, you were about to run off and go hit something, weren't you?" asked Tristian.

Katala squeezed Tristian's hand maybe a little harder than she wanted to. Not enough to really hurt him, but enough that she could feel his hand bones yield a bit. Tristian did not flinch.

Tristian nuzzled his face in her neck and kissed it. "We _will_ find a solution for this. I'm sure of it."

But she could not wait. She needed to act, she needed to vent, she needed.

She needed...

Katala leaned forward and kissed Tristian hard on the mouth. Tristian untangled his hand from hers and put his arm around her shoulders. She was not gentle with him. She held on tightly to him as she crushed her lips to his, practically shoving her tongue into his mouth. Her rough fingers entwined tightly with his fine, golden hair beneath his hood and tugged lightly. He welcomed her passion, opening his mouth to let her tongue in as he kissed her back and tilting his head into her hand.

She started biting down on his lip. He moaned as she took his lower lip between her teeth and sucked and bit down. Katala poured all that pent-up passion into the kiss, biting down hard, so hard that she accidentally pierced his skin. As soon as she realized what she had done, she pulled away.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry," she said.

"It's all right," said Tristian. He sucked on his bleeding lip, not really bothering with a healing spell. "I can handle your passion...and your burdens if you'll let me."

"I have a _lot_ to let out," she said.

He held her hand in his again. His soft fingers stroked her knuckles. "I can handle anything you throw at me."

"And you would be okay if I went a little rough with you tonight?" she asked. "I mean, I will never hit you or do anything to really hurt you. Even if we did have that relationship I'm not...into that kind of thing, but scratching, biting, hair-pulling. Is that okay?"

"Yes," said Tristian. "I too do not wish to be hit or hurt, but I actually rather enjoy it when you go a little rough with me. You have left many scratches on me in the past, if I may remind you."

"Right," said Katala.

Tristian stood up. He led Katala by the hand to their bedroom. As soon as the door closed behind them, Katala pushed him up against the wall and started kissing the daylights out of him. He gasped in surprise, but when Katala's tongue entered his mouth, he closed his eyes and kissed her back. Her fingers nearly fumbled as she tried to take off his belt. She needed him _now_ , and she didn't have the patience to even take off his clothes. His fine hands went down and helped her with his belt. As soon as that was done, she nearly tore his cloak and robes as she took them off. She never wanted to take her mouth off of his for even a moment, so when they had to separate to take off their shirts, she was on him very quickly again.

When they were completely naked, Katala grabbed him by the butt and lifted him. She carried him to the bed. For once, she was gentle with him as she set him down. The two of them looked into one another's eyes, breathing heavily. Tristian reached up and caressed her face. His gentle fingers traced the scar on her right cheek. They shared a wonderful, intimate moment together before Katala leaned forward and kissed him again. Tristian backed up towards the headboard so that they could both be fully on the bed. Katala pinned him down and bit him on his pale, soft neck, gently at first, but hardening her grip as the moments went by until he cried out in passion, tilting his head so she could more easily access his neck. He held her tightly and dug his nails into her back.

Katala pulled back to look at her handiwork. There were bite marks in the crook of his neck. The skin around them was red and dark, but not quite bruised. Tristian had always been more durable than he seemed. 

Going gently once more, Katala touched her forehead to Tristian's and nuzzled him. He gently stroked her back.

One of their belts had landed on the bed when they had taken off their clothes. Katala grabbed it, pinned both of Tristian's wrists above his head and tied them with the belt. Katala kissed him once more before leaning back and pushing herself down on his dick. He gasped and moaned and pushed his hips upwards into her. She dug her nails into his chest as she rode him, leaving bright red marks down his torso. He seemed to reflexively try to reach out to touch her, but he found that he couldn't, so he just moaned in longing and thrust his hips in time with her.

Katala reached behind her and started stroking his rim with her finger. If only she had some lubricant on hand, she would have totally penetrated him right now.

Tristian must have read her mind. "Get the oil."

Katala got off of him to grab the bottle of oil from the nightstand. Before she got back on him, another idea hit her. She took him inside her once more, but this time she faced away from him. She took her time running her hands up and down his legs, scratching his thighs.

They started fucking once again. Katala coated her fingers in the oil and prodded at his rim once more. Tristian moaned and spread his legs so she could more easily enter him. She poked the tip of her finger inside and played around with his entrance before prodding more deeply. As she rode him, on hand was clutching tightly to one of his legs and the other fucked him with one, and then another finger.

Tristian hissed and gritted his teeth as he thrust his hips upwards one more time. She felt his cock retract and spill inside her. Katala clenched around him kept fingering him as he came inside her. 

Tristian slumped back into the pillows. Katala got off of him and crawled over so she sat next to him. His blind eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, and he was panting heavily. Katala kissed his cheek. She waited for him to catch his breath before she climbed on top of him again. Facing away from him, she pushed her hips back towards his face so that her pussy was nearly against his mouth. Tristian reached out with his tongue and started licking her pussy. She moaned, pushing her backside further back against his face. Tristian pushed his tongue in deeper. 

Finally, she felt an orgasm overtake her. She clung to his leg, digging her nails into his soft skin. He still kept licking as she came, not stopping until she had been licked clean.

She lay down next to him. As soon as she untied him, he put his arms around her and held her close. She relaxed into his arms, feeling spent, satisfied, and finally content.

"Thank you." Katala nuzzled him.

Tristian smiled. "It was a pleasure. Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah," said Katala. "For now."

He stroked her shoulder with his thumb.

A few moments passed. "I think I'll make Valerie the Grand High Diplomat for now," said Katala. "It's much easier to find a new Regent than a new diplomat when we're in the middle of negotiations. She's good at this stuff."

"Makes sense."

Katala sighed sleepily. "Are you okay? I hope I didn't hurt you too much."

"Hardly," said Tristian. "I can handle any issue you have, physical and emotional."

She slept in his arms.


	7. Bath Scene

The only thing worse than being pregnant was being pregnant and having to spend hours on her feet in the swampy Narlmarches while mosquitoes bit at her and her entourage. Her people had found a lost dwarven keep in the South Narlmarches with a possible library on lost dwarven technology. Naturally, dwarves from all over the Inner Sea flocked to the area. Digging permits had to be signed, emissaries from the Five Kings Mountains came to negotiate the rights to certain treatises found in the keep, and now a whole team of dwarven engineers had proposed a new system of roads based on what they had found: these reinforced roads would be resistant to erosion and sinking, making it now possible to build stone roads in the marshes. 

The queen herself had to come out and see the marvels that they had accomplished so far and review the proposals, which is why Katala found herself hours away from the town of Narlkeep, wearing thick, but inexpensive leather boots, canvas trousers, and a large tunic to cover her pregnant belly. She had to appear strong to her people. Even though she had never fought a real opponent since the baby started showing, she still exercised as rigorously as she ever did, making sure that her muscles never atrophied, and still made sure to carry as much of the burden of ruling as she had before.

The only person who wasn't fooled was her husband. Since they found out that Katala was pregnant, fretful was the only word she could use to describe his behavior. Her prince consort constantly made sure that she was comfortable on her throne or that she didn't strain herself during training. It got to a point where she put her foot down and told him that _she_ was the pregnant one here and that he could just calm down already.

Still, Katala was exhausted on the ride back. When she and her entourage arrived at their rooms in Narlkeep, she felt that she was about to drop, something completely uncharacteristic of her.

Tristian approached her. "I've arranged a bath for us in one of the private rooms on the first floor, if you're not too tired."

She was tired, but she was also muddy and sweaty and sore. "Sounds great," she said.

Like with most things in the South Narlmarches, the inn incorporated some dwarven architecture, including their baths. Instead of a wooden bath, this inn had a room with a large marble tub built into the ground. Steam from the hot water rose from the tub, filling the room. A tray of fruit lay next to the lip of the tub.

Tristian smiled. "I thought oysters would go bad quickly in this heat. Sorry about that."

Katala laughed. "No worries." She took off her robe. Her belly was prominent, but not to the point where she would pop at any moment. She still had a few months to go.

She stepped into the bath, letting the warm water soothe her sore feet before she stepped all the way in and sat down. Tristian disrobed and followed in after her. Katala put her arm around him and held him close. He rested his head in her breasts, which were now full and tender.

"This was such a good idea, thank you," she said.

"My pleasure," he responded.

The two of them just relaxed in the tub, munching on grapes. Occasionally, they would kiss, or Tristian would play with her nipples.

Katala observed her husband's face. While still young, his jawline had become stronger, less slender as his mortal body went along in its mid-twenties. He had chose to age along with her as a human does. It was a mere trifle to him. Once their time on Golarion would be over, he would just become a deva again and reascend to Sarenrae.

Relaxing in the bath invigorated her. All this kissing and teasing was no longer enough. She grabbed Tristian by the hair and kissed him hard. They moaned in each other's mouths as his gentle hands went lower, down her belly, to her clit and vulva and rubbed, gently at first, but then he inserted his fingers in her and went harder and faster.

Katala reluctantly pulled his hand away. "Tristian, I want you to fuck my ass."

He stared back at her. She would have liked to think that he was used to her bluntness, but even this was probably a bit much, even for her.

"Do you have lubricant?" he asked.

"In the pocket of my robe."

"You came prepared," he said.

"Hey, when you asked if I wanted to have a bath with you, I thought at some point we would have bath sex."

"I'm not criticizing you. I just find it amusing," said Tristian.

"I'm sure," said Katala. "Now let me go get it."

But Tristian climbed out of the tub before she could go. He easily found the vial in her pocket and brought it back. They stood up and kissed one another, his body pressed against her breasts and her belly. Tristian traced his fingers down her back and into the crack of her ass and prodded at her hole. She moaned in delight at the thought of him taking her there. She had fingered him many times, but this would be the first time he would ever anally fuck her. She took the vial from his hands and started coating the oil on his cock, taking her time, savoring his moans as she stroked him.

Katala bent over the rim of the tub, her hands clutching at the lip. Tristian positioned himself behind her. She guided him to her hole.

"Will it hurt you?" he asked.

"It might," said Katala. "This one's different from my other hole. The vagina can take a hell of a lot more punishment. Compared to that, the asshole has about as much toughness as wet parchment."

"That does not sound very pleasant."

"You'll just have to be more careful," said Katala. "Unlike my vagina, it won't loosen up when I get turned on. It's going to take some work to fit you in."

"Okay," said Tristian.

Tristian pushed his tip past her rim. Katala tried to relax as best she could, but she could already tell that it would be a tight fit. It took some time for him to push in, but once she got comfortable, it actually felt rather nice.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yes," said Katala.

When Katala had played with his butt in the past, he was always so sensitive. For her, even though there was no physical stimulation, just having him in there turned her on. The feeling only intensified as he moved in and out. She reached between her legs and started fingering herself as he made love to her from behind.

Tristian became more confident. It was a smooth and fast ride going forward. It didn't take long for him to come inside her. Katala rubbed herself harder and faster until she also came.

Tristian kissed the base of her neck. Katala turned around and kissed him on the lips.

They cleaned up, dressed, and went back to their room. After what just happened, they didn't want to stay in the water for very long. As soon as they went back to their room, they almost immediately fell asleep on the gigantic bed, entangled in each other's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I commissioned art of Tristian and Katala's children a while ago. You can see it here:  
> <https://www.deviantart.com/isbjorg/art/Fairground-789265206>


	8. Firstborn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To make up for the fact that there is no porn in this chapter, my friend drew Tristian and Katala having sex. You can see it here: <https://undyingembers.dreamwidth.org/730.html> VERY NSFW!

Katala started her labor while she was watching a melee competition between the Tiger Lords and her own warriors. When Amiri had been her general, her soldiers could easily wipe the floor with the barbarians. While they weren't at all weak now, it was a little humiliating that Katala had to give out prizes to other competitors now and again. 

So many of her companions were dropping like flies. Regongar and Octavia had left to fight the Technic League in Numeria a while ago (though their most recent letters suggested that they might be coming back), Jubilost went off to the next big expedition, the Storyteller vanished, Maegar and his lover went off to found another mercenary company, Amiri also went off in search of more adventures (Katala actually kind of envied her for that; the only thing that had kept her sane was that Tuxony never seemed to run out of weird places to explore, and even that dropped dramatically once she got pregnant), and now Ekun was thinking about putting down his bow to take up carpentry again to support his new family. The only original people left on the Council were Valerie, Harrim, and Tristian. Nok Nok still stuck around, and Katala still caught up with Linzi from time to time.

Another pang as the warriors on the field clashed against one another. Unfortunately, Katala and Tristian had been holding hands, and she accidentally squeezed his hand too hard. Her prince consort turned his face to her. 

She gave his hand a softer squeeze and whispered an apology. Normally, Tristian wouldn't often accompany her to events like this, but he only got more fretful as the pregnancy went on. Katala found it rather adorable, though she couldn't say she wasn't grateful, that Tristian had gone through more trouble than she did finding a midwife, having a nursery put together, making sure that the baby would have a source of milk should Katala be unable to for some reason, and basically bothering everyone in all the hospitals and temples in the capital for advice on how to take care of a baby.

It wasn't just that he was concerned about Katala. Whenever Tristian went into those phases, Katala could tell that he was also having fun with all this.

"You are...really excited to have this baby, aren't you?" she had asked him one night.

"Oh, you couldn't possibly know!" he said. 

Katala raised an eyebrow at him.

"But, I didn't mean that you weren't...or couldn't be...excited too. I just..." He calmed himself down. "The...results of unions between angels and mortals are relatively well-known, but it is very rare that we get to stay behind and help raise these children. I just want to make sure I do right by this child."

Katala put her arm around his waist. "You're going to be great," she said. "You're a wonderful person, and you're going to be a wonderful father."

"Father..." he said softly, smiling. "No one has ever called me that before."

"Well, get used to it. You'll be hearing it for the rest of your life." She paused. "Or the child's life. Whichever comes first."

Tristian smiled ruefully. "Half-celestials don't age past around their mid or late twenties, and they are much more durable than the non-celestial parent. But our grandchildren, if we have any..." He trailed off, his face blank and distant.

"Are you okay?"

He smiled sadly. "Yes, I will be fine. I knew what I was getting myself into when I decided to stay with you, and when we agreed to have this child."

She nuzzled him comfortingly. 

 

Another pang shot through her as her knight got headbutted in the stomach and knocked to the floor.

"Gods fucking damn it!" She shouted, standing up. "I've seen the stable boy take a harder hit than that. Do I have to come down there and show you how it's done?!"

Everyone close to her looked up at her. She quickly sat back down.

The Tiger Lord barbarian won the melee. Katala felt a small amount of liquid trickle into her smallclothes. Crap. If she didn't stand up to give him the prize, it would be an insult to the Tiger Lords.

The winner looked up at her expectantly. Armag waited, his face twisting in confusion. The audience talked among themselves.

"Is everything all right?" Tristian asked.

She leaned towards him. "Don't panic, but my water just broke."

She only just gave him enough time for the shock to appear on his face before she stood up to congratulate the winner.

 

Of course, news will travel all over the capital. The guards escorted Katala and Tristian back to the castle to wait out her labor. Tristian worked himself hard to make sure that she wanted for nothing during this period, making sure she had food, water, and pillows if she needed it.

"How about a tall flagon of the mead I've been saving?" she asked.

He held her hand. "I promise when this is done, you can have all the alcohol you want."

 

What was worse than the labor was the waiting. Katala had spent the rest of the day walking around the garden, listening to nearly every song the musicians knew, even resorting to sitting down and reading Linzi's book. Tristian was at her side always, but she was even getting a little tired of him. What she wouldn't give to pick up a sword again.

Another pang.

"Son of a bitch! Just get out already!" she yelled.

Tristian laughed, earning him a glare.

Katala swore to herself that, as soon as it was over, she would drink an entire keg.

 

It wasn't until the very small hours of the morning that the baby was actually ready to come out. Needless to say, neither she nor Tristian got any sleep that night. 

This stage was even worse. Not only were the contractions even more painful, but it came to the part where she had to stay in the bed in the special room they had put aside for the birth.

Katala had stood toe-to-toe with trolls, hunted dangerous beasts of the First World, had fireballs hurled at her face numerous times, and took down an Eldest. Nothing kicked her ass harder than that baby had done at multiple points in her pregnancy, and this was was a thousand times worse. The priestess of Pharasma urged Katala to push, while Tristian whispered comforting things in her ear.

Fuck all of this. Katala entered a rage. She broke the side panels of the bed she was laying in. Tristian gently squeezed her shoulder and kept whispering reassurances, but they were drowned out by Katala's howls of rage. Once this was all said and done, Katala might have looked back and considered how the poor guards outside were wondering what the hell was going on in there, but at the moment, she was just focused on getting this baby out.

When this was all done, she will drink out the entire tavern.

As the dawn's first rays peaked into the window, Katala saw to her dismay that there was light shining out of her crotch.

"It's the baby's halo, Your Majesty," said the priestess. "I can see the top of this one's head poking through."

Tristian clasped his hands together. "Praised be Sarenrae!"  
"Well, fuck you both," said Katala. "It's not over yet."

After the baby's head poked through, it was a relatively simple matter of gently pushing and pulling the rest of him out. Katala slumped into the bed, breathing heavily, as the baby was finally fully out. She vaguely felt some more stuff come out of her crotch, but she didn't pay it much attention. Tristian kissed her forehead.

The priestess of Pharasma cleanly cut and tied the cord before washing the child and presenting him to his parents.

Katala held the little grub in her large hands. He made a few cough-like cries as he wriggled around. The sun was just coming up over the horizon, the morning light shining fully through the window. As the sunlight shone on the baby, he seemed to glow, especially around his head. Folded on his back were these tiny, ugly, stick-like things with tiny spines lining them, like the wings of a baby bird. His skin was darker than Tristian's, tannish, like Katala's, but while Katala's skin was rough and blemished with scars and freckles, the baby had perfectly smooth skin. The glow made him look almost bronze-ish.

She double-checked. "It's a boy," she said.

"What does he look like?" Though Tristian's voice was soft, it had an eager, almost desperate hint to his question.

"Like a little grub," said Katala. "Dark hair. Bronze-ish skin. Tiny wings in the back. And he's glowing."

Tristian's smile brightened up the room almost as much as the baby's glowing did. "Are we still naming him Pharosted?"

"Yeah," Katala said slowly. "Yeah, we are. Here, take him."

Katala carefully placed baby Pharosted in Tristian's outstretched hands and let go once she had made sure that Tristian had a steady grip on him. Tristian held the baby close, his blind eyes widened, and his lips slightly parted as he just stood there with the baby.

"My son," he whispered. His eyes widened even more with realization.

 

Katala went back to their room to collapse on the bed. Tristian took little Pharosted to the nursery just one room over. He didn't want to let go. He could barely bring himself hand the baby over to the midwife so she could put a nappy on him and swaddle him in a soft blanket. Even when Tristian reached the nursery, he didn't want to put Pharosted down just yet. He just sat there on one of the couches and held his son. So many things dawned on him all at once. Should something happen to Katala, the weight of the whole kingdom would fall on the shoulders of this tiny creature who couldn't even walk, this child who right now depended on Tristian to survive because he couldn't do it on his own. Tristian needed to help and protect this child at all costs.

It took some time before Tristian was ready to place Pharosted in his crib.

"I promise, for as long as I live, I will guide and protect you with all I have." Tristian leaned down and kissed Pharosted's tiny forehead.


	9. Ascension Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote two short prompts of these two. They were rather short, so I squeezed them together in one chapter.

Ascension Day was always a bustling day throughout the kingdom. From the busy streets of the capital to the remote villages in Dunsward, the people of Tuxony dance and drink and play song for the patron deity of the realm and Queen Katala’s own god: Cayden Cailean.

It was a time when the crown was especially generous. In the month leading up to this holiday, the council worked tirelessly to make sure the peasants had extra food for the winter, the orphanages and hospitals had extra beds, and that a festival was held in every city and town in the kingdom.

“Make sure every man, woman, and child in my kingdom has their needs cared for,” Queen Katala once declared. “May all my subjects be able to put aside their worries so that they may be able to celebrate!”

As a Caydenite herself, the queen would partake greatly, especially since she had been pregnant last year and could not drink any alcohol. This year, she would imbibe the hot ciders to her heart’s content and belt the Lucky Drunk’s holy hymns to the skies until the sun would come up. But that would come later that night.

As for the Sarenrite husband of the Caydenite queen, he had spent the day and the few previous days making appearances in the city square with his wife, handing out sweets and toys to children and organizing charities. He was ready for a quiet celebration with his wife and son, exchanging presents and sharing a hot beverage by the fireplace in the royal chambers.

At seven months old, Prince Pharosted was very mobile. When he could only wriggle, he still tried to crawl. Now that he could crawl, he was not content with that and would try to stand and walk. No matter where he was in his development, the prince would constantly move from place to place, getting frustrated when he would run into a closed door, a place that was too high for him to climb, or any other obstacle that got in his way. His wings had grown out and softened since his birth, forming into tiny grey mounds of feathers.

This year, his mother got him a smooth, wooden ball (his father got him new clothes). The queen smiled as she rolled it around on the floor in front of her son. The prince watched with interest as she gently pushed it away, and he waddled over to chase it.

Tristian huddled up in the new blanket Katala had given him. Since he couldn’t see, she’d give him gifts that were pleasant to his other senses: soft fabrics, sweet herbs and fragrances, various teas and chocolates.

Katala settled in beside him on the floor, holding him close. The two of them share a bowl of hot cider as they watch their son play. No matter how cold it got, the boy never cried or huddled up or otherwise complained; his celestial heritage gave him natural resistance to cold. On top of that, the boy always ran warm, like his mother. Katala’s hound, a pony-sized monster of a dog, curled up behind them along with many of his pups.

Tristian sighed and nuzzled into his wife’s shoulder, basking in her warmth and breathing in the scent of herbs and baked bread.

“I never thought I could feel so much happiness,” he whispered.

In response, Katala hold him tighter and they share a kiss.  
  


***

For the first time in what seemed like forever, Katala had a calm morning. She opened her eyes just before the sun began to rise; no panicked messenger running in to tell her the council needed her immediately and no incidents with her son. Gods, but that child, at almost three years old, was shaping up to be a handful. Now that he could walk and run, he wanted to fly. He had nearly given Tristian a heart attack when he had tried to jump off the stairs, and he constantly wanted Katala to pick him up and throw him in the air. The young prince hated being contained; before he had been given a bed, he would cry and wail when he woke in his crib, and he had to be locked in his room at night to prevent him from running around the castle and jumping off of things. Katala had woken up many a night to the sound of her son pounding at the door and screaming for someone to let him out.

As Katala basked in the rare moment of silence, she heard Tristian shift next to her, getting up for the prayer he performed every day at dawn.

“Mornin’,” Katala mumbled.

Tristian stopped. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

“Nah,” she responded as she put her arm around him. “S’really quiet right now.”

Tristian stroked her hand. “I suppose it is.”

She snuggled up more closely to him. “There’s still time before dawn.”

“Ah,” he responded, a look of understanding on his face. He was getting better at picking up on her innuendos.

To accentuate her point, Katala shifted even closer to him and kissed him deeply, their tongues and lips moving slowly against one another.

“Please,” she whispered.

He sighed. “All right.”

She took off her nightgown and smallclothes, not really bothering to make it sexy, and helped him out of his. As she climbed on top of him, her heart raced, the sleepiness from the early morning fading away. She took a moment to look down at him, all splayed out beneath her, calm, yet desiring.

She leaned forward to kiss him again. He reached up to caress her muscled arms, her back, and her chest. Katala broke away from him and sat up straight before lifting herself off of him and coming back down on his hard shaft. Her inner walls parted easily for him, as they have done over the past few years. The two of them fell into a very familiar rhythm. Tristian reached up and cupped her breasts as he thrust into her from below.

Katala came first. She squeezed around him as her orgasm overtook her. It only took a few more thrusts for Tristian to spill out into her. Katala collapsed on top of them, both of them breathless and tired.

As the two of them lay in bed, a few rays of sunlight streamed in through the window. It seemed as if they did not quite finish before dawn. Oops.

Katala moved aside as Tristian scrambled out from under her. The deva immediately went for the closet and started to dress in his ceremonial robes.

Katala watched him fumble with his clothes for a bit. “How about another kid?” she asked.


End file.
